a christmas heist

“Wanna hear a joke?” “Absolutely not.” She’s dangling from the ceiling, her head far too close for comfort to a bubbling cauldron of whatever the creatures living there are cooking. This is not the time for jokes. It’s the time for tense silence and very active listening in case any of the hut occupants wakes up despite the broad daylight. Robbery at noon, there’s the joke. But just as if he hadn’t the slightest idea of the shitstorm of cataclysmic proportions they could find themselves in at any moment, he adds: “It’s a very good one.” “Not right now, Llew-llew…” she answers, in a sing-songy voice, making her best to disguise the frustration in her tone, hoping he takes the message. “Oh, come on…”

She turns away from her attempts at catching a small bag on a shelf almost too far for her reach. “Shut. Up.” She hisses. “You’re going to get us killed.” “That wouldn’t be such a big deal.” She sighs. “Maybe for you… Me, I’d be dead forever. Lights out. You… It’d be like what… Two to three weeks floating around as a wisp before your family musters the magic to bring you back.” The autumn leaves eyes of her accomplices become worrisome and the too-perfectly arched brows frown as he realizes what she’s saying. “Sorry, Eleni…” She shakes her head as slow as she can to not upset her precarious balance. “No trouble.” She dives again.

The trouble is on the shelf, in the content of the bag she’s attempting to retrieve. If there’s anything belonging to those who went missing, it’ll be a proof. A proof that Krampuses have lied, that they’ve started to hunt among the … general population rather than doing with the criminals they’re given every year.

A bitter hysterical laugh threatens to shake her whole being as the thought crosses her mind. What has the return of myth and magic brought us? She ponders. The revival of human sacrifices…

And just like that her fingers close around the bag, and she hoists herself back up to the relative safety of the roof.

That’s the thing about Krampuses … they’re bad climbers. They come from the ground while their counterparts descend from the heavens.

So, she sits in the bright cold winter day, looking at the alien beauty of her accomplice and whispers with a tired smile. “I’ll hear this joke now, if you don’t mind.” Llewellyn beams at her and starts. “It’s real good. A Krampus and a St-Nich walk into a bar…”

a christmas heist by Alizé Gabaude is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0